


Remembering and Forgiving

by StevetheIcecube



Category: Xenoblade Chronicles 2 (Video Game)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Forgiveness, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Other characters mentioned - Freeform, Post-Golden Country, Spoilers for Chapter 9, Spoilers for New Game Plus, time skip
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-16
Updated: 2018-07-16
Packaged: 2019-06-11 09:02:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15312069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StevetheIcecube/pseuds/StevetheIcecube
Summary: ***Spoilers for Chapter 9 and NG+***Mikhail was left alone by the events of the Aegis War. Hundreds of years later, one of the people he holds responsible is right there and she doesn't recognise him.





	Remembering and Forgiving

**Author's Note:**

> This is my 100th fanfic published on AO3! Hype.

It felt sort of suffocating, at times. He’d remember, and things would flash in front of him He’d hear things that weren’t there and feel things that were long in the past or even things that had never happened. It hurt, even if it wasn’t real, and it was terrifying when he was out on his own. In the earlier days, when he was still growing, still learning things about what he could and couldn’t do around people, that was when it was worst. When he was just the oddball in the town, a town in Mor Ardain which was headed nowhere except to the relative safety of the capital. The child with no parents who no one could be bothered to get into school.

If he was being honest, he was bitter. Humans couldn’t even bring themselves to care for one of their own, let alone what they’d do if they found out what had happened to him. People hated flesh eaters, with good reason, Mikhail thought, because he couldn’t even think of what kind of moral person could eat someone else (the memory of Minoth was separate to this, but he’d been working for Amalthus and Mik knew how that one had turned out), but he didn’t want to find out what they thought about people who were the other way round.

As it got harder for humans (and him by extension) to live in the town, he knew he had to move on to Teddim like the rest of them. But with moving on came more uncertainty, and with uncertainty came the fear and illusions that he couldn’t overcome. Moving reminded him of endless days trekking across dangerous wilds, but now there was no Jin to keep him safe, no Lora to comfort him.

He was on his own. He’d lost track of time when he was stuck suffering in Indol and then when he was running away. But he saw the year when he was looking at the notice board for odd jobs he'd never apply to - it was 3572. He’d been on his own for so long. He was nearly an adult now, and here he was unable to make any steps forward to a meaningful future because every time he even thought about it the clawing pain in his chest returned with a vengeance. The fire of pain would climb to his throat and he’d be left in the darkness with his chest even and his throat raw with silent screaming.

Loneliness and darkness. Those seemed like the least of his problems, sometimes, but he just...wanted someone to talk to. He wanted to smile at a stranger and or them to smile back, rather than hurry on with their head ducked. They presumed he was a dirty orphan child who wanted their money, and to an extent they were right. But Architect he’d be happy with just a smile. He wanted someone he could say good morning and wave to, but there was no one.

Anyone who’d shown any affection towards him was long gone. He had no idea where any of them were. He doubted they were even still alive, now Torna had fallen. Maybe they’d made it out to somewhere else, somewhere safe, because he sort of doubted that anything could best Addam and Mythra.

But that didn’t mean they were here for him now. They probably thought he was dead with Torna, or maybe they thought he was safe somewhere with a new home. Maybe...maybe they’d forgotten about him. But he wouldn’t ever forget about them.

-

Mythra didn’t recognise him now he was no longer a child. Haze was long gone, long since exploited for despicable purposes. Addam had died, somewhere along the line, but no one knew exactly to where. Jin was there for him, as before, but a lot had changed since and Lora was...despite everything he wanted to imagine, Lora was gone.

He wanted the Aegis and her group to understand what was really going on. He wanted Mythra to realise what had happened, what she had caused, in part. What she had allowed to happen. Falling through the sky, closer and closer to the cloud sea that would swallow him forever, he knew that she’d probably never know. But it didn’t really matter anymore, did it?

-

Not dying sure presented an opportunity and a half. His last minute change of heart really gave him something to think about when he was recovering at the bottom of the World Tree. Did he regret his decision? No. Did he hope that Rex and his group would be able to sto the rest of Torna? He didn’t actually know. Maybe. He didn’t care if he lived or died but he didn’t really want everything else to just be...destroyed. He probably should have thought about it earlier.

Before he knew it, the lift at the World Tree was moving. Someone was coming down. That someone could only really be a handful of people, and it turned out to be exactly who he’d thought it would be. Another chance at redemption, perhaps, or maybe just overrated mercy from people who had more power than he did.

He deflected how he felt about the issues, honestly. Made up some crap straight from the mouth of one of Akhos’ tragic heroes in his endless numbers of plays. It worked, and from there he was faced with standing alongside all the people he’d previously been standing opposite. Reduced to the role of a blade without even a second glance at the nature of how he had his abilities. They simply presumed he was a flesh eater.

“Guess that’s just the way it goes,” he mused on the first night. It was to no one in particular, but he half hoped they were listening. “You start off on one side, switch it up, and then when it comes down to the big finish you just end up right where you started.”

“What do you mean, Mikhail?” It was Nia who spoke up first, unsurprisingly. They’d skipped past the wariness and slipped back into their old familiarity very quickly, thankfully. He felt profoundly awkward around the others, particularly Mòrag. He’d held her life in his hands only a few days ago, in the snowy wastes of Tantal.

“Jin and I go way back,” he explained. “Back a long, long way. I was with him and Lora, back in the Aegis War.” This was going to take some proper explaining, judging by the confusion on their faces. He watched Mythra particularly closely, but he guessed they just hadn’t heard the conversation between himself and Amalthus.

“I didn’t know that,” Nia said. “I presumed you were like Akhos and Patroka and...myself, I guess.” She still sounded awkward admitting to her flesh eater status. She’d always been shy about talking about her past. Mikhail would probably only briefly hesitate in calling her tone ashamed. “Didn’t know you had history.”

“You remember the Aegis War?” Brighid asked. Mikhail was honestly surprised she spoke up. Back when he’d known her, she’d been a lot quieter. Things changed, he guessed. He only vaguely remembered her, if he was being honest, so he could even be wrong.

“Not that clearly,” he admitted. Nearly five hundred years was a long time to remember events that had occurred during his childhood. But he remembered. He’d spent a long time clinging to those rare, happy memories. “Were you there?”

“Not in this lifetime,” she said, like that wasn’t plainly obvious to him. “I wrote of many of my comrades in my journal, but never of one named Mikhail.”

“You wouldn’t have,” he said. He should probably say something, but it was almost fun to keep them guessing. He could practically see the cogs turning in Mythra’s brain.

“I don’t remember any blades called Mikhail,” she said. Architect, she really didn’t remember him. These people had no idea how to identify a flesh eater. “You weren’t sent over by Amalthus for a battle or something, were you?”

“Dear Architect no,” he said, not bothering to suppress a snort. He never would have served Amalthus. Not after all the evil that man was clearly capable of. “You really don’t remember anyone named Mikhail, Mythra? Even after five hundred years, I’m disappointed I didn’t make enough of an impression.”

“I didn’t know a blade called Mikhail,” she said. “I knew a child, pretty much glued to Lora and Jin. He was, I don’t know, ten? But he will have been dead for over four hundred years now.”

“Eight,” he corrected. “Where would an orphaned child have ended up after the war, do you think?”

“Tantal, perhaps,” Zeke suggested. Mikhail sort of wished the man was right. Living in Tantal wouldn’t have been the easiest or happiest life for him, but it wouldn’t have been what happened. He wouldn’t have suffered for as long as he had. “Or Indol, if they took refugees back then.”

“You’re telling us that you’re that Mikhail?” Rex asked. “So why did you ever join Malos? You were orphaned by him.”

“He was orphaned by bandits, Rex,” Mythra explained. “Humans, I remember. Lora told me about it. But if you’re him...what happened to you?”

“Ended up in Indol,” he said. “Amalthus, newly instated praetor at the time, wanted more power. Alrest was in chaos and he needed to establish his small, barren titan that was only really a pilgrimage site as the new centre of the world. Torna’s technology and aptitude with blades put them at the head of the world, but he couldn’t turn to flesh eater technology. He needed something new.”

“Blade eaters,” Zeke’s blade, who had introduced herself earlier as Pandoria, if he was remembering it right, suggested. “Indol hold all the technology on blade eaters. My prince only has part of mine, and Fan la Norne was only missing part of hers, but you…”

“The real deal,” he said with a flourish. This was bringing back even more pain he hadn’t wanted to relive, but hey, this was the end of the world and he’d probably die before long. He wanted the injustices of that wretch to be known. “He just resonated a crystal with my body against my will and this happened.”

“That’s...Mikhail, I’m so sorry I wasn’t there.” Mythra had turned into Pyra and Mik definitely wasn’t going to pretend that wasn’t real. “I’ve said it to Jin too, but I had no idea that all of that was going to happen. I was thinking about the bad I’d done to the world without thinking about fixing the instability I’d left it in.”

He didn’t know how to deal with such a heartfelt apology. It couldn’t even begin to compensate for the hurt he’d suffered over so many years alone, so many years spent struggling because she hadn’t stuck around to atone for her mistakes. But he couldn’t reject it, with all these people looking, and she did seem to mean it genuinely. He just didn’t think he could forgive.

“I never forgot,” he said. “Those days were probably some of the best in my life, which is pretty sad now I think about it. Five centuries of life and the best moments were in the weeks following being orphaned and made homeless. I know you mean those fancy words, but they don’t really make up for it. But actions’ll speak for you as well. Make a future for all the kids growing up now, and then maybe we can talk about forgiveness.”

“Thank you,” Pyra said. “I’ll do whatever I can.”

**Author's Note:**

> Just waiting on my entire fanfic being disproved by Golden Country but I have Feelings about this so I knew I needed to write it in full. A comment would be appreciated if you have any feedback or thoughts :)


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